Novel & Cerita Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Kindle

As a she-wolf with a soft heart, only her status as an Alpha’s daughter had saved her from ridicule and worse. “There’s something else,” Diana said, startling me. “Have either of you seen my diary? It’s a small purple book with a lock.” Lisa was shaking her head. “I haven’t.” Should I lie? I swear my falsehoods were becoming smoother the more practised I became. Instead, avoiding the question, I volunteered to help her look for it. “I may just take you up on that,” she replied. I couldn’t wait to ditch Lisa and see what transpired.

*Chapter 23: The safehouse smelled of damp concrete and old blood. Aria crouched in the corner, her fingers trembling as she held the leather-bound diary. It had been hidden beneath a loose floorboard in the abandoned clinic where she’d grown up. The edges were charred, like someone had tried to burn it years ago and failed. Her heart pounded against her ribs. “Read it,” Kael said from the doorway. His voice was low, controlled, but she heard the edge of pain beneath it. He hadn’t slept since they escaped the kidnapper’s warehouse. Neither had she.

I open the book again and flip back to the first page of the book deciding to read the inscription handwritten there in neat small letters; "This diary belongs to Jennifer Bennet, beginning 21st February 1975" I glance at Thomas, who has been watching me as I inspected the book, and I see he looks just as shocked as I am. I am currently holding the previous Luna's personal diary. Her son, our current Alpha, is sharing this most personal possession of his mother's with me? Encouraging me to read her private thoughts and feelings? I admit, I was intrigued before but now I am torn. Do I read the Ex-Lunas diary? Can I really do that? Diaries are so intensely personal and private.

Mia's POV I woke up with Mr. Cole’s cock still inside me. Not a dream, not a fantasy, but real, thick, hard again, stretching me open in his big bed while the rest of the quiet Ohio house remained silent. Mr Cole was my best friend’s dad, forty-seven, divorced, shirtless, and buried so deep I could feel every pulse. My dress was shoved up around my waist, my panties were gone, his hand covered my mouth so I wouldn’t make noise while his other hand pinned my wrists above my head as he moved slow and dirty, dragging almost all the way out then pushing back in until my eyes watered.

Thank you. I would love to hear from you guys in the comments and reviews, please. Let me know what you think and help me to get better. Thank you. I also want you to know that, as this story draws to a close, I already have more titles in the Street Diaries series in the work. Yeah, it's gonna be a series. Love you all.

“Tell me why I should be kind to you bitch and let you go?” “My family will be looking for me for starters dumb ass, secondly the more you touch me the more I will have proof to give to the cops” Laughing at her she stops. Going to her diary I start reading “today me and my mom had a huge fight, I am so tired of this family I just want to run away and live with friends far far far away from her. Your diary seems to say you want to run away. We packed your bags, stole your mom’s money and jewelry and stole from your sister anything you might need. They might look for you but they will look elsewhere. Second, who said the cops will ever know what we did. Third if you were not such a bitch I pr

I had forgotten all about that book, it had fallen out yesterday night from the top of Phobos's cupboard when I had mopped his chamber floors but I had no time to look into its contents so I thrust it into the box hoping to be able to read it later. I lift my hand to him indirectly demanding for it and he directly gives it to me. A deep inward breath I take in as my heart pounds vigorously in suspicion of what I might see. I know it is wrong of me to wish to invade his privacy this way but this is the diary I was determined to steal when I was eight. The pad of my thumb tenderly skims across the leather covering as memories of our childhood ignite to life within my mind.

Those thoughts filled her mind. So today, she would finally do something about it. She had bought a brand new diary from the store. It was a special one. With leather on it and a strange P monogrammed on the cover. It was far fancier than anything the Dollar Tree should be selling. Finding it was a score that had Kristen grinning. She was enamored with her new diary. She was eager to get started on it. The diary was thick, too. She could write so many of her naughty ideas in them.

The soft thud against the mattress was barely audible, but in the silence of the room, it felt deafening. My fingers grazed the rusted zipper. It resisted slightly before giving way with a slow, reluctant rasp. The scent of faded fabric and something inherently her curled into my nose. Inside, the contents were mundane— old clothes, everyday necessities, the kind of things that spoke of survival, not comfort. Then, my eyes landed on it. A battered book. A stack of certificates. And at the very bottom, a diary. Bingo. A slow smirk tugged at my lips. I took out my phone, adjusted the angle, and snapped a quick picture of the certificate before restoring everything else to its original place.

She marvelled at her erratic heart beats and wondered if they would ever get normal in his presence. As she searched her bag for the comb, she found the small handpocket sized diary that she bought in a thrift store a long time back. She opened it and skimmed through the enty pages of the book when a crazy creative idea popped up. Smiling to herself, she picked a pen from the nearby table as she decided to write about all the beautiful memories she had with Ronan the previous day. This way, she can relive them whenever she wanted without missing out on even the smallest details. Excerpts from Anya's Diary: